


Leave Me To Decay

by SUNNYWISH



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, I mean its minsung but like its everyone focus, Tags Are Hard, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-07 06:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21453616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SUNNYWISH/pseuds/SUNNYWISH
Summary: "I'm so different from the me I used to know"
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	1. I see, I bark, I bite, I rip apart

Felix groaned in fractured pain as his wrist fell limply to his side.

“Looks like it was a rough night.” Chan whispered sympathetically as he clinked is other hand free. It fell like the other one had, decorated with flakes of blue and purple agony. 

“Don’t want to talk- want a milkshake” He breathed, well more rather coughed as he brought his more than intentionally ripped jeans up to his chest. 

“Yeah, we can get you one of those, we’ll go down to hungry jacks before class,yeah? Chan sighed, sinking his body beside his friends, his arm snaking around his shoulders. Locking his friends up was enough to wrench his heart open, but having to untie them in the morning when their wrists and faces stinging with bruises and cuts, heaving with exhaustion, delirious and occasionally in mental states that turned his blood cold, that, that was the worst part of his life.   
Luckily, today didn’t seem as bad, he had found Felix in much worse states than this, so this morning seemed pretty good, despite the silent cries into his shoulder. He didn’t want to move, he would stay like this and never move if he could. Even in some abandoned store room with the vague smell of pigeon shit, with the humid breeze hitting him in the face like a flannel, he knew he was needed. But need was a thing that was going around a bit too much this morning. 

“Hey buddy.” He said softly, placing his arms delicately on his shoulders, looking straight at him. Like this he could properly see all the little grazes and bruises scattered among his face and neck, those hallowed eyes that windowed into a world he would never be able to quite see and the blood soaked in his hair. “Want to come help me get the other’s up and going?” He asked simply, a genuine smile on his face. “Then we can all go to hungry jacks. You can have five milkshakes if you want, even if you’re sick. And if you are sick, aim it at Jackson the dick stole my lunch last week.” 

Felix smiled. Just a little bit. The corner of his mouth twitched just for a moment, and that look in his eyes was so much more human. But it was enough to send the biggest tsunami of relief over Chan, because he smiled. Getting any of them to smile in those mornings was the biggest victory he could ever hope to achieve. He could pass every exam with full marks and it would have nothing on it. Felix nodded slowly, allowing him to pull him up to be standing. 

“I’m going to go get Woojin up okay, I won’t be long.” Chan assured him, turning to head out of the room, but he didn’t get two paces before a dirty hand reached out and limply clasped his own. He looked back to see an absolutely crestfallen expression that had one emaning, and one meaning alone: please don’t leave me alone. 

“Okay buddy, want to come with me? I’m sure he’ll want to see you, did you hear him much this time?” He asked, careful not to raise his voice. He prayed that the other two were as good this morning as Felix was. He was shaken, and a little out of it but god knows he’d seen worse..so..so much worse. He shook his head, which Chan took as a good sign, excessive howling was usually an indicator of a pretty brutal night.   
Felix shuffled down next to Woojin’s sleeping heap of a body, curled up against the wall, his legs still encased by the thick mangals that wrapped his ankles and dug into his skin. “Morning mate,” he whispered slowly, shaking him carefully until the boy’s eyelids fluttered open and he sank into Felix’s side. 

“Bad one, was it?” Woojin asked quietly, as Chan silently twisted his key into the chains, clinking his legs free from their necessary bondage.  
“Nah, not really. Just-”   
“Yeah I know.” Woojin whispered back, his hands snaking through Felix’s birdnest of blond hair, pulling out the stray bits of plaster that had nestled there in the night. “It sounds like we got off lucky, Jisung didn’t sound good from what I could hear.” 

Chris stiffened. When Felix had bad nights it could tear Chris apart, having to pick up the pieces to fill the vessel of his friend again before he would smile again. It could take a few hours, sometimes it would require excessive labour on Chris’s part over a few days, but he usually managed it. Felix’s face was always best smiling. 

When Woojin would have bad nights he would tear the place apart. Chan would fine him in the morning with his chains enveloping his whole torso, the floor and walls cloaked in friction marks, marks where the chains had whipped across the surface, marks where his claws had nothing else to hack at. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’d had to run down to the pharmacy for first aid kit after first aid kit, patching out the little wounds because there was no way he could fix the deep ones.

But those he could manage. He could fix to an extent. He could splutter utter random shit about petty problems to get a chuckle out of Felix, he could disinfect the wounds splattered across Woojin’s shoulders. 

But when Jisung had bad nights, he would tear himself apart. He wouldn’t say anything, he’d be silent. He wouldn’t say anything. Not a word, he’d just stare blankly at the floor or the ceiling as if he couldn’t even feel the others near him. It’s not what they couldn’t say to him that worried Chris, but the things that he was probably telling himself in the silence. In a few days he’d be back. He’d be himself as much as he could be. 

But Chan had this frighteningly strong feeling at the pit of his stomach, and the three of them ran faster than the wind could have carried them down to the second floor. 

Changes in scenery attract the attention of your eyes. The pages of a book, shifting focus on a movie, entering a room. The decorated centerpiece on the table, a beautiful dress spinning on the floor of a ballroom. You can’t help it, you can’t take it all in at once, even for just a fraction of a second you’ll focus upon the brightest, biggest thing. 

That didn’t apply here. There was no center of attention, no showpiece, there was just so, so much. Felix’s eyes were supposed to be sharper than everyone else's due to some stupid dumb instinct thing that was proving to be absolute bullshit now. HIs eyes couldn’t focus on a single goddamn thing in the room. 

There was of course, the blood. The scarlet scars scraped across the floor like tire marks, draping the walls like the remnants of streamers after a kids birthday, such an unfathomable amount it looked like it could laquer over an entire tennis court. There was Jisung hunched over in the morning of the room. His eyes looked as if they’d been stapled open, red bruising around all edges, wide and hollowed out with guilt. At a first glance, he looked so be stationary, frozen with shock, but further glances with more a more integral eye may conclude, that he was moving, very, very fast. Just a little bit, he was trembling with such slight but massive ripples, and his breathing matched its sync almost perfectly. His clothes were weighed down in their crimson saturation, that seemed to envelop him, his arms, hair, neck...mouth. 

But by a mile, the most obvious and harrowing sight to behold within the floor were the too bodies thrown violently across the floor. Faces he didn’t recognise. One of which was sprawled against the concrete, his black hair disheveled and splattered over his face, three glowing lines engraved into his back, glistening through the ruins of his shirt. Woojin had already ran over to him and let out the longest awaited sigh in relief. “He’s breathing.” 

Felix’s eyes scanned over to the other side, to the boy that was lying motionless, the one that Jisung was hunched over. It didn’t a genius to work out who all that blood swimming around them had belonged to. His face, it was so...blank. Not a whiff of emotion, was depicted in his features, they just stayed, so very still. “Yeah.” Jisung said, so low it was barely a whisper. “But this one isn’t”

“Call a fucking ambulance.” Woojin growled. 

“Jisung.” Felix said in a low voice, as he shifted over whilst Chan’s phone dialled 000. “You’ve got to get up, if the paramedics arrive and you’re hear covered in this guy’s blood...well... you know how it’ll look.” 

“How will it look?” He replied, expression unchanged. There was a certain weight to the question. It was laced with guilt, sorrow and unintended venom. How would it look? How would it look to find two boys marked with animalistic scratches and bites unmoving in an abandoned car park, with another very alive boy standing over them, drenched in their blood and practically radiating a pungent kind of guilt. Would they know that the night before that boy and two others in different floors’ nails became claws? Probably not. Might they draw sensible conclusions? Probably. Would they probe, ask questions that closed him up and tore him apart? Almost definitely. But the weight was not in the words themselves, but the undertones, what he meant. The question was not ‘How will it look?’, the question was ‘How DOES it look’ or rather ‘can’t you see what I’ve done?’  
“I don’t know.” He answered plainly as Chan practically dragged Jisung out of the room. 

Woojin hated the smell of blood. He hated it’s metallic twang, he hated how you could practically breathe it in but he mainly hated that he could always smell it. Just a papercut the lecturer would out handing out essays, the dried remains on your gums when you brushed too aggressively, the scars cats would leave on owner’s hands, would swarm around him so he was constantly surrounded. He hated that he could always tell when someone felt so shit they took it out on their wrists, he hated that he could feel a car crash seven blocks away. He hated that every time a small bit of him, the animal bit of him just wanted to follow the scent, wanted the thrill of chasing it down, craved feasting upon whatever carcass it hoped to find. 

And right now, his head was splitting. It explained why he found himself in such a state when he recovered in the morning, his ribs were aching from his strives to escape. That scent was so odorus it must have sent his blood drive through to Mercury. It still lingered, it still corrupted and whispered in his soul. The scent of two boys he didn’t even know’s blood was enough to give him a curdling migraine even as they were cartered off to the hospital. The stench of enough blood they may never leave it alive. He hated that he knew that. 

“Jisung.” Felix pleaded next to him. “Just look at me?”. 

Felix currently trying to coax him into at least some version of reality after Chan had given up. Chan was in a better state than the three of them, so he had originally been the one to try but it rendered useless. Woojin knew Chan hadn’t wanted to give Felix the hefty task right after a bad night, but after Chan had tried for a solid hour in vain, he had to try. If anyone was going to pull the human out of the shell to his right, it would definitely be Felix. 

He just continued to stare at the floor. Fresh clothes and a shower wasn’t going to wash away the atrocities. He wasn’t going to smile. But they could try. They could try and get Felix to smile his contagious grin that was most certainly strained and fake. 

“They said the guy’s stable…” Felix mumbled. 

“I don’t know how you heard stable from in an induced coma.” He spat. At least he said something. 

“He’ll be fine, and they said they were optimistic about the other one’s surgery.” 

“They have NAMES, Felix and I don’t even know them! Even if he survives the surgery which will be a bloody miracle, you know I’ve ruined his life, we all know-”

They were interrupted by the thundering of footsteps pushing through the double doors to their left, a teenager, pursued by two apologetic nurses. 

“Let me SEE him.” The teenager pleaded, the suppressed sob in his voice severely denting the armour Woojin had up, for Jisung’s sake. 

“Sir, he is in surgery. Nobody can enter. The best you can do for him at the moment, is tell me how I can contact his parents, or his next of kin.” 

“They aren’t in the country! They still live in Korea, he’s..he’s.. Minho’s..um here on a study visa…” The kid rambled, hardly catching his breath, looked a bit like he’d been running.

So that was his name. It wasn’t familiar, it wasn’t personal, but the name still hung in the air with tremendous weight. Woojin’s eyes betrayed him and flickered over to the still trembling Jisung, whose knuckles had turned white around Felix’s hand. He wondered if knowing the name would be worse. Was it easier if he distanced himself so much, and knew nothing? No. That would make him a wolf, tearing apart your prey without a second thought or a shred of sorrow. And Jisung was human. 

“Thank you sir, if you like, you are permitted to see your other friend, but I warn you, we have had to put him into a coma to enable the painkillers to do their job.” 

The teenager’s face transformed in seconds, he smiled widely, his teeth and braces shining through. “But I can see Hyunjin?” 

“You may.” 

“And he’ll wake up?” 

“I can't guarantee anything, his injuries are not minor, but yes, he should in a week or so.” 

And with that, the teenager sped off. 

“See?” Felix said, smiling. “He’ll be fine. You can’t turn from a scratch.


	2. 2- Those who make my insides burn

So it seems you actually did keep your phone off all weekend, kudos to you. Anyway I don’t know if you have it on yet, but good luck for your exam thing.   
Minho also wishes you luck  
I mean, he stuck his middle finger up at your contact name on my phone, but you know thats basically the same thing.   
You’ll ace it. See you tomorrow

-hyunjin. 8:30 am, 13 May.

Oiii Minho said you have some kind of exam today? Weird, I didn’t think photography could have exams, what do you do learn the buttons of a camera? Wish I could be back, but I have to stay here for another bloody week, Melbourne is boring. 

-Changbin. 10:41, 13 May

Well, Soongi just shat on the carpet. 

-minho 12:07, 13 May

The exams over isn’t it. Turn on your phone you twat

-jeongin 15:09, 13 May

Thought you’d be answering by now, did it go alright? Are you dead? 

-hyunjin 16:25, 13 May

Hellllooooooooooo, Im bored, answer your phooone I don’t think I can stand another relative asking if I have a girlfriend

-changbin 16:34 13 May

Radio silence from you is rare.   
And unwelcome  
Turn ya phone on

-Minho 16:51, 13 may

Did it go badly? 

-Jeongin 17:08, 13 May

Uh there's a thing we have on on Friday if you wanna come

-Dowoon 17:16, 13 May

Mate drunk girl (At five in the afternoon, charming) just threw up onto Minho’s lap  
Want a picture?

-Hyunjin. 17:43, 13 May

I did not solicit that thanks, send it anywhere and I will personally circumcise you.

-Minho 17:56, 13 May

Yo my cousin is definitely high, at dinner he licked a clean plate and asked what flavour it was.  
I told him it was piss  
He cried

-Changbin 18:32 13 May

Missed call from Hyunjin. 22:09, 13 May

Have you still not turned on your phone?  
Seungmin the exam was yesterday  
Life’s annoyingly boring without you. 

-Jeongin, 07:35, 14 May

2 missed calls from Jeongin 8:04 

ANSWER YOUR PHONE.  
I DON’T WANT TO TYPE THIS JUST FUCKING TURN IT ON TURN YOUR BLOODY PHONE ON.

-Jeongin. 8:15

4 missed calls from Jeongin. 9:13

3 missed calls from Changbin. 10:20

Are you at the hospital?  
Tell me you’re there.  
Next flight available was tomorrow night.   
Tell me you’re there   
Seungmin, tell me you haven’t left Jeongin alone.   
Shit man 

-Changbin 10:29

5 missed calls from Jeongin 12:03

3 missed calls from Changbin. 13:45

If you don’t show up in the next hour  
Please  
I fucking need you

-Jeongin 14:54

4 missed calls from Changbin. 17: 05

I’ve been here nine hours.   
nine hours.   
What the hell do you think you’re doing?

-Jeongin. 17:52

7 missed calls from Changbin. 18:19

I’m literally in another state and I’m fighting as hard as I can to get back  
You’re what? A tram ride away?   
I don’t care if your phone’s off.   
-Changbin 19:01

Seungmin usually hated running. Upon most occasions he’d rather have his kidney removed sans anaesthetic than chose consciously to run, in his own free will. But upon this occasion, if he were to look downwards he’d see his legs barely touching the pavement beneath it. If he was sweating he couldn’t feel it, even if he was drowning he wouldn’t know.   
How long had he been running? Two minutes? Ten? He wasn’t sure where he was, the street signs had flown from his view, the people hazed into one, swarming around him, faceless as he weaved in and out of their sea, relying on his muscle memory to navigate him as his brain just wasn’t working.  
Or rather, it was working, far far too fast. Words just flickered in his mind, questions yelled over the top of each other in such a loud cacophony they had to be entirely tuned out of he felt like he’d scream, and maybe he’d never stop, he had so much fuel to burn. Questions that burned hotter than the others, questions that sunk in their teeth and drained him, because he had a feeling he knew the answers and malignantly prayed he wasn’t correct. All he had were agony fueled angry texts and gargled voicemails that had been recorded through sobs to work with, because he’d been an idiot and forgotten to turn on his bloody phone on the one occasion that it should have been, beyond anything else.   
How hurt even are they?  
Critical condition. He thought. Those were the words he had managed to decipher from the audible scraps of his first voicemail from Jeongin, in the midst of all the cries, everyone feeling like a machete through his chest to hear, and the remainder of the voicemails that followed were lacking in any information but his lack of knowledge was more than compensated in extreme guilt.   
Has Jeongin been alone there the whole time?   
That he wasn’t sure the answer to, but he certainly hoped not. How long had it been since the first voicemail? Something like 10 hours? 10 hours that Seungmin had spent pretty much sleeping and studying in the library in blissful, sinful ignorance. Changbin was a state away, and he’d still been smart enough to have his phone on to at least be there virtually. Seungmin didn’t have any excuse, not a valid one. He had no excuse to shift the blame of that harrowing image he had of two of his friends varely stable and the fact that he’d left Jeongin alone.   
What the hell were they doing to get attacked anyway?

“Water?” Felix asked, awkwardly passing the bottle to Jeongin.   
Jeongin smiled back, gratifyingly taking it out of his hands. It was half genuine smile, the closest he’d gotten that day since the nurse had told him Hyunjin was going to be okay. But that smile had been ignorant and too quick to judgement. Some stupid part of him had rushed up to the ward practically expecting him to be sitting up in the bed and grinning at him. He hadn’t thought that he was in reality, just going to see his friend unconscious, his back entirely banaged but not thoroughly enough to disguise the deep purple bruising that was splattered across his whole torso. He wasn’t expecting to spend the day with nothing to look at but his phone screen,that was far gone dead, or the gruesome scene of his friend’s injuries. He had had enough courage that he at least wasn’t going to be alone, alone with dread sitting heavily upon his shoulders, with Changbin in another state and Seungmin fuck knows where. He wasn’t entirely isolated he guessed, there were the four strangers lurking awkwardly in the other corner of the room.   
Chan had been the messenger that he initially had been very very tempted to shoot. When you pick up a call from your friend in the early hours of the morning mid avocado, you don’t expect a stranger’s voice in his place telling you some horrible account of finding said friend and another friend battered to shit (though he had used more evasive language) in an abandoned car park, left there to bleed out, barely breathing by what was probably some lost dingos. Jeongin had managed to convert his panic and despair into anger, having to direct it somewhere, and when this random guy had been sitting in the chair next to his other slightly less injured friend, instead of anyone who you know, actually fucking knew him, he had wanted to be livid. But the sympathetic smile that probably should have done nothing but pour vodka over his angry flames, an unsettlingly calming feeling of safety extinguished them instead.   
The one handing him the water, that was Felix. He looked barely older than him, and gave him reassuring grins with a little flicker of sadness in his eyes. He hadn’t said much, maybe because he hadn’t even met him before today, maybe because he knew that there wasn’t really much to be said that wasn’t patronising , so he had barely touched on the extremely looming subject, and instead had spent the day rambling aimlessly, not getting much of a reply out of Jeongin, but he sensed Felix knew he was grateful for the distraction, and didn’t even flinch when he accidentally dropped his head sleepily onto his shoulder.   
There was another one, sitting on the other side of Chan, whose name Jeongin was unsure of, as he hadn’t introduced himself, probably because he knew that Jeongin’s priority was not becoming acquainted with these new strangers, what he really wanted was his actual friends. He wanted this one to open his eyes and grin at him, he wanted the news one friend was safely out of surgery, he wanted one friend to not be a state away, and mostly he wanted his best friend to give him a bloody hug, but was suddenly MIA. Te guy had gone out and fetched him lunch, dropping it awkwardly at his lap with an apologetic smile, and he could feel him out of the corner of his eye looking his direction to check on him.   
Maybe if his mind wasn’t way too focused on being negative in so many other respects, he would have felt guilty hey had given up their day to stay with him, as soon as he had awawrdly sobbed that Changbin wasn’t going to get there and his other friend wasn’t answering, Chan had answered almost automatically, in half a heartbeat that they were to stay, with firm nods from both Felix and the other guy. The last one, who had barely moved from his seat beside Felix all day, had remained silent. He had yet to hear him talk, at least not clearly, the most he’d half heard were the occasional murmurs that were only just loud enough for Felix to make sense of. He wasn’t even blinking regularly, he just kept staring at the ground. Chan had aid something about him being disturbed by the sight, but had spared Jeongin the details. Jeongin was sure that the last thing he needed was to picture the extent of Minho’s injuries, knowing full well they were probably ten times more harrowing than Hyunjin’s, and this guy’s face was hardcore evidence. But despite his silence, on the 12th failed attempt to call Seungmin when Jeongin had just fucking had enough and ran out of the room, he had been the one to follow him, presenting him with some magically apparating tissues, and wrapping his arms tightly around him in the way he was dangerously in need of, letting his shirt get drenched until his eyes simply ran dry. And in the midst of all, he might have heard the barely audible apology.   
He drank the water, not really having realised his own thirst. He had just sort of taken the dryness of his throat and the general discomfort as being what came with a situation like this. He knew that the visiting hours stopped at nine, which gave Seungmin about an hour and a half to get the fuck to the hopsital, because no way was he going home after this, no way in hell, not alone. His parents weren’t even home at the moment, they were back in Korea, visiting friends or something, and the thought of staying in an empty house, not knowing the results of the surgery, was like tying a noose made of magma around his neck. If he didn’t turn up he’d bloody bang on his door until he let him in if he had to, he had considered doing that throughout the day, but he couldn’t just leave. He wasn’t going to abandon either of them, not even for half an hour. He had already lost a battle with the nurses about staying in the hospital or the night, despite his pleas. His lack of ‘next of kin’ status had thrown him in the deep end.   
The door slid open, and a gasp was heard.   
“Could you have maybe taken a little longer?” Jeongin said dryly from Felix’s shoulder. He had tried to put as much bitterness as possible into his words, wanting them to inflict some kind of pain that could eve in the tiniest way reflect the agony he had been in all day onto him. But it just came out plain, sans any real emotion apart from just pure exhaustion. He knew it wasn’t fair to be angry, he didn’t even want to feel anger, how the hell could he even think to be, when two friends weren’t even capable of conversation. So, he just lightly rose from his seat, and sank heavily into Seungmin’s arms.   
“I needed you.” He whispered. This didn’t pack anything, it wasn’t meant to hold any venom, any spite or invoke any guilt (although it did). He just let the honestly spill out from his mouth, bare, naked and vulnerable.   
“I know.”  
Jeongin very almost jolted backwards, for for a split second the realisation had whacked him violently. Seungmin was crying. Not simply glazed eyes that slightly dampened his shoulder, but it was like opening a damn in a flood. Seungmin… he didn’t tend to cry, and here he was, sobbing violently. And Jeongin remembered, this wasn’t just Seungmin unintentially leaving him by himself, this was his best friend who had just found out that two of his friends had been violently fucking mutlated, and the centiancy of one of their well beings was anyone’s fucking guess. And he wasn’t alone, he was suffering just as much as he was, and in an instant all that anger fizzled down deep, deep inside.


	3. Chapter 3

The surgery apparently, had gone well. Well enough that he wasn’t dead. That Minho, wasn’t dead, Jisung corrected himself. The name he had known for what? A day? It should have been something still new to him, something he would keep forgetting and awkwardly have to ask the guy to remind him. But it was never going to leave his mind now, it was imprinted, tattooed into both parts of him, and he had no need to ask, he had yet to make any conversation with the guy, he had gone straight into ripping him apart the second the canine within him laid eyes on his prey.   
He had yet to even see him. Well, that was inaccurate, the limited photographic memories that the wolf had preserved, soaked in it’s usual disgusting red hue. But all he got was the guy’s head turned away from him, perfectly healthy and ignorant of the predator sizing him up, his fist clenched around something, and his arm slung around the other- Hyunjin’s shoulders. And there had been what he saw when he woke up, and felt his heart contract into nothingness.   
That, that was an image seen through his own eyes, and it was potentially the most crucifying sight that had ever even crossed hsi eyes. Worse than the broken looks on Felix’s face every lunar hangover, that he’d repaint the sky to brighten, worse than the hidden exhaustion Chan pretty much radiated that almost made Jisung feel a burden. It was even fucking worse than the sight that five year old Jisung would never ever lose, hands clutched around Felix’s as those yellow eyes just glared downwards, seconds before the rest of their lives were ruined.   
But that, that just hollowed him out with a katana.   
There was just so, so much blood. So much of it pooled around his motionless body, across the walls and oh god, there was just so much of it on him. What blood was Minho’s? What blood was Hyunjins? It didn’t matter though, did it, it really didn’t matter because they were both on his hands. It was running down his wrists, crusted in his hair and his tongue could still taste the lingering taste of it dancing across his lips.   
That image, and that name would be sewed into him forever.   
The surgery succeeded, you didn’t kill him.   
He didn’t kill him.   
He hadn’t gone and fucking killed someone.   
Hands gripped his own, and looking down Felix was squeezing his right hand so tightly he might as well have broken his fingers, and Chan’s fingers laced with his left. Woojin looked like he was going to pass out with relief. Seungmin however, didn’t look quite so exsatic, even with Jeongin practically vibrating with happiness next to him. The kid looked like he had just been handed the world, or more like he could sort out all of it’s problems if he just kept that look on his face, that hopeful, hopeful grin. Seungmin’s eyes somehow seemed to drift over to his own for a limited session of grave eye contact, despite not even a single conversation being held between them. It was as though they were the only ones that had heard the whole sentence and their ears hadn’t tricked them into only hearing what they wanted to.   
The surgery went incredibly well, and we have him in stable condition, however his level of comotse is uncertain, we are not sure when or if he shall wake up.   
So in that moment, when their eyes met across the room, they shared a little moment neither wished they had to. Seungmin because he hated understanding that this wasn’t necessarily good news, that his friend might never even return to him, and having to deal with that while Jeongin was so full of hope that he might end up choking on it. Jisung because he might have ended a life anyway, and because if Minho was the wake up, the guy himself might have wished he had. And as Seungmin sighed at him, a little grave smile on his face as he ruffled Jeongin’s hair, he finally, finally felt a hot tear glisten in his eyes, and his head just sank into Chan.   
There had been something else in Seungmin’s eyes. The eyes that were so intelligent, that seemed very very capabale of distrust and suspicion, that had sent a chill bouncing down his spine. He led Chan out of the room as quietly as he could, praying he didn’t attract any attention, leaving Felix to squeeze the shit out of Jeongin.   
“You’re not a murderer, do you hear me?” Chan said quietly, once they were out of earshot from anyone that wasn’t incredibly busy.   
“Did you hear what the nurse said?” Jisung fired back. “He might not even wake up!”  
“Don’t say that.” Chan replied, so earnestly that it was practically a command, sewing his mouth shut from further comment on the matter. It was that voice, and that wasn’t the voice you argued with.   
“And what am I supposed to do when he does then.” He whispered, genuinely clueless. Both of them knew full what would happen in a month’s time if he ever opened his eyes again, but it was what was to be done about it that had been plaguing him the most.   
Chan just blinked at him, like he had just asked him if the earth was flat.   
“This is my fault. So what do I do? You’re the one with all the answers.” Jisung pleaded, more streams of water spilling out onto his cheeks, gripping Chan’s shirt, not with aggression, but just raw desperation.   
Chan’s arms came up onto his shoulders, and his eyes just found Jisung’s, locking them together like he had some kind of magical key. “It’s not your fault. You can’t align yourself with a bloodthirsty monster that isn’t you. But what it is, is your responsibility. You’re not going to get distant and angry, you’re going to hold his hand through it and make fucking sure he’s not alone.” 

Woojin physically had to go to class. He had missed it the previous day, because of obvious reasons and there was something about leaving that kid by himself that had just made him feel honestly sick. But today, Felix and Jisung had gone to the hospital, seeing as they didn't have any particularly burning commitments (and it didn’t look like Jisung would have been able to do any work if he had gone back to his dorm anyway) while he and Chan had rushed off to their commitments, only to come speeding back in the afternoon.   
The room was beginning to be a little crowded, it was only meant to fit one hospital bed and maybe a few seats, but there was the fully equipped hospital bed, complete with the comatose patient and various medical attachments, two visitors actually acquainted with said patient, and four other individuals who had never met him in their lives, plus the occasional doctors and nurses assisting him with painkillers. Seungmin and Joengin sat at the seats beside the bed, Jeongin happily murmuring about the success of Minho’s surgery into Hyunjin’s ear. Seungmin was attempting to tell him he couldn’t hear him, but Jeongin had stuck up his middle finger and told him to get his own out of his ass.   
Woojin wasn’t sure what the next turn even was, did they come back here every day? They couldn’t keep doing that, the cutersy would be beginning to wear off and seem to whiff a little suspicious. But they weren’t just being courteous, they were hear to make sure that the two of them were alright, that they weren’t going to have a body count on their hands, because when that kind of thing happened, the weight of that did not just rest on one of their shoulders. But they came back the next day, at least two of them every time.   
“What are we going to do when Hyunjin wakes up?” Jeongin asked, not no anybody in particular.   
Woojin and Jisung stayed silent. For obvious reasons.   
“Kill him, probably.” Seungmin groaned. “He’s taking a lot out of my work.” earning a hearty shove from Changbin, who had flown in the previous day. The kid turned around to face the two awkward werewolves.   
“What about you?” He asked, seeming to actually want to know their input. This was a private, intimate moment that was supposed to be shared between Hyunjin’s friends, not those responsible for his hospitalization in the first place.  
“I don’t think that we-” He started. “I mean we don’t even kno-”  
“Eh” Changbin waved him off. “He’ll probably want to meet you anyway.”   
“Yeah.” Jeongin grinned. “You kinda saved his life.”  
That was a subject for scholarly debate. And a half. Yes, potentially if they hadn't called the ambulance the two of them may never have been found, and it definitely would have been too late for Minho and maybe Hyunjin too, but it could hardly be called heroic and surely not admirable.   
Jisung looked like he was ready to stab himself at that last comment, looking straight down at the floor for a few seconds, but when his head looked up once again, grinning and ruffling the kids hair. “Nahh we didn’t.”   
Given the circumstances, that would have seemed forced to anyone that had all the information, but not to anyone that actually knew Han Jisung. This happened. After every shitty night he’d close off and his skin would reflect that of a ghosts, but as the days went on and he remembered that he was more human than he was an animal, the colour would return to his cheeks, and he’d go from being a worrying little shit that they loved into an annoying little shiy that they loved. Woojin knew that Chan, similar to Woojin himself had been scared that since this...incident, that Jisung would never really fully return to them. But although this smile, this time was definitely very fake, Woojin saw the glint of actual Jisung in it, and he breathed out a sigh in relief.   
He honestly had no idea what they were doing. He knew that they couldn’t abandon Minho in his new found state.. If he even woke up, they weren’t even allowed to see him yet. Felix had seemed to have found a genuine friend in Jeongin, he wondered if that was to last if Jeongin actually found out...anything. What would they tell Hyunjin? Oh by the way, you were brutally attacked by a wolf that’s actually our friend Jisung who almost killed Minho and if he didn’t he’s ruined his life, something you missed out on narrowly just because you were scratched not bitten! Want a doughnut?   
They had no plan,they were pretty much letting the waters steer the ship and hoping it didn’t ram them into the rocks. How would they tell Minho what was inevitably going to happen to him? How could they help him when he probably would hate them? Would he even wake up anyway? It was so uncertain, and he was bloody terrified. The only thing they knew was that no matter what happened they weren’t leaving these strangers, and they definitely weren’t leaving Jisung to deal with this by himself.   
With both of them so fast asleep it didn’t feel properly real. They hadn’t seen Minho since the paramedics had arrived, and that entire morning was hazy, every time he tried to recall it he could, in a certain trance-like way, and Hyunjin yet to do anything that wasn’t sigh or inaudibly groan. This, this was the easy bit, and it got tangled again when the following morning, he and Felix met Seungmin at the entrance, and walked into the ward to see Hyunjin sitting straight up in his bed, practically being choked to death by Changbin’s arms. 

Felix decided that he much preferred Hyunjin when he was awake.   
Looking at him unconscious in the hospital bed, it was far too easy to just focus on what was wrong with him, his machines seemed far louder, his bruisers more purple, and his bandages seemed more protruding. But when his eyes were open, the scars under them just seemed to fade away. He seemed a lot more real now, complaining about the hospital gown, listening to Seungmin yell at him with the biggest puppy grin on his face.   
“WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU FUCKING DOING?!”   
“Mate-”  
“NO EXCUSE YOU, WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING?”   
“I-”  
“SERIOUSLY, WHAT THE HELL.”   
“Don’t you want a hug?” Hyunjin managed to ask. Felix wondered how he could smile so broadly when he still had a drip attached to him, and his friend was yelling at him so loudly people in Mongolia were probably covering their ears. But it made sense when the second Hyunjin asked, the fiery anger in Seungmin’s eyes just flickered out like a switch.   
Felix studied him curiously, and was beginning to be even more thankful that his life hadn’t been blackened out, it just wouldn’t have been fair. This guy was so loved and it was so very easy to tell why. Hyunjin didn’t raise an eyebrow at Felix and Woojin’s presence, having apparently been brought up to speed by Changbin about their little awkward tagalong, demanded a hug from Felix also, and although surprised he had been pretty happy to oblige. And the look on Jeongin’s face when he had practically crashed into the room was just another reason Felix was internally ecstatic about Hyunjin’s lack of comatose state.   
The room just seemed to be exploding with relief and joy, even though the nurse hadn't counted his recovery, it was still a slight recovery from the bondages of their fear. And then Jeongin, made a mistake.   
“Now we just need Minho.”   
It literally only took those five words for the aura to just drop below sea level, and the smile to be wiped clean off of Hyunjin’s happy countenance.   
Changbin and Seungmn seemed to share a look that Felix was too much of an outsider to translate.  
Felix looked back at Hyunjin’s face, and now it didn’t matter that his eyes were open. To drain out the happiness it seemed you had to drain his face entirely. His skin just faded into white, his bruises returning to sight as he heard Minho’s name. His blackened, slightly curly hair seemed to loom more over his eyes than it had a few seconds, and he just shrank back into the pillows away from the five crowded around his bed.   
“Where even is he?...hes not...is he?”  
“Intensive care, but he’s coming out today… the doctors aren’t sure... If and when he’ll wake up.” Woojin answered, after a deep inhale of breath, shocking everyone. But it had made sense, neither Seungmin nor Changbin looked like they were comfortable with answering the question, and Jeongin had just buried himself in the side of the bed. Someone needed to tell him, stringing him along like this would just have been ruthless.  
It occurred to Felix that he wasn’t even sure of the degree of closeness between Hyunjin and Minho, if there even was one, he had just sort of gathered that they were friends, but one glance at Hyunjin’s current face could answer that question like a fully formed thesis. It was just, pure fear. Fear that reduced him to nothing but his body and his injuries. Like the lack of certification of his safety or his presence just sucked his essence out of him.   
“I want to see him.”   
If he looked anything like he had when Felix had seen him four days ago, he really didn’t.   
But the earnesty in his voice, the power reminded him scarily of Chan’s. The voice that seemed to almost question god herself, and challenged the whole universe.   
“You’re on bed rest.” Seungmin attempted, as light as his voice appeared to go.   
“To hell with that.”   
“Can you even walk?” Changbin asked, apparently searching for frantic practical reasons.  
“It barely even hurts. I want to see him.” Hyunjin repeated adamantenly, his first sentence very almost flying over Felix’s head.


	4. 4- A question without an answer

Jeongin’s hands curled tightly around the railings that boarded Minho’s bed, his eyes strang down firmly at the freshly washed sheets, his eyes burning with fury. 

“Look at him.” He hissed, every syllable drowned in spite and urgency. He wasn’t sure of it was a command or a beg. 

A hand came across and touched his back, gently, calmly, but it just felt like a slap. Seungmin’s voice entered his ear, “Jeongin-”

“LOOK AT HIM.”He yelled, letting his hands free and whirling around to meet Seungmin’s eyes. “Just look at him! It’s something I have noticed you have been avoiding at all bloody hour. You’re just happy to cart him off in a coffin and go back to class!” 

He stared so angrily into Seungmin’s eyes he was sure he could make them burn. But they just looked back at him with this hollow unreadable looked which was as effective as throwing vodka onto the open flame. 

“Of course I’m not Im just not nai-” He stopped. 

Oh fuck OFF.

“Go on then. Finish your sentence.” 

“I didn't mean to infer-” 

“Oh nah. You go ahead, I’m absolutely dying to know what you were going to call me there.” 

Seungmin folded his arms. “Fine, I was going to say naive.” 

And with that Jeongin shoved him, hard, into Woojin who up until now had had a sudden deep fascination in the architecture of the doorway,

“You’re right.” Jeongin growled. “I’ll be on my way out then. Do you want me to draw you a butterfly? Mummy gave me some crayons for my birthday!! Or should I draw a unicorn because I clearly believe in those, its much more reasonable for me to believe in those than to have a shred of hope that I haven’t lost him for forever!” 

Of course he was naive. Of course he was just an ignorant baby who doesn’t understand how the world works and has absolutely no negativity within him at all! Just a loveable heap of rainbows. 

But Jeongin might have tried to smile through the whole thing, grinning at his friends bloody comas and using the situation to make friends with these alien faces and overall acting as if this was all going to be fine and dandy within the week. 

He was scared. So scared. He smiled to shut the little aggravating voice in his head that whispered thoughts he couldn’t stomach. To stop him feeling so sick about visiting the hospital that he actually felt himself gagging at the entrance with the moritfying fear of his friends slipping out of his grasp. And they’d only been allowed to see Minho since yesterday, and Seungmin wasn’t even looking at him, like he was already gone, not like he was right there. Right there, inches away from them and so very close to life. It just seemed like he was hanging off a cliff and Seungmin had already sent a search party down for the body. 

“ALL I SAID IS THAT WE SHOULD PREPARE FOR THE WORST.” Seungmin fired back. Yes, yes, get angry. 

“Which is just a fancy way of covering up the fact that you’ve given up.”

“You think I don’t want him to wake up? You think that I wouldn’t give anything and I mean ANYTHING to make him come back to us?” 

No. No Jeongin didn’t think that. He knew full well that Seungmin was just as broken in this situation as he was. Jeongin had his coping mechanism, and Seungmin had his and they both just loved Minho so much, and he didn’t mean all the hate that escaped his mouth- he was just so scared, and he felt so so alone. 

“Then tell me why you can’t look at him!” Is it because you’ve simply moved on and you can’t bear to let your eyes look upon something that's just dragging you down? Or is it really that you’re so overcome with guilt, because you know full well that there is no way in any corner of the universe that he would EVER give up if that was YOU in that bed!”

In all the time that Jeongin had known Seungmin (12 years 7 months) he had seen Seungmin cry few timmes enough to count on one hand, and never had any of those occasions had Jeongin been the perpetrator. 

Low and behold, here was the day. Because right before him he saw Seungmin shatter in front of him. He saw him burst into overspilling tears and fall to the floor. He had done that. He had hit the nerve. He had gone way too far. Was this supposed to feel good? Like some kind of victory? It didn’t. And his stupid pride made him a coward. 

“Fuck this I’m going to see Hyunjin.” 

Changbin was just about done at this point. 

“Hwang Hyunjin, You did WHAT?” 

Of all the things Changbin had expected to be told on the way into Hyunjin’s ward, it was not that he had risen from his bst despite his advised bed rest and wandered around the hospital at 3 in the morning attempting to locate Minho’s room, eventually found there by some extremely pissed nurses, one of which had been the one to give her rather assertive report to Changbin as he entered. 

“I wanted to see him.” Hyunjin shrugged. 

It wasn’t exactly a shock. Hyunjin had been awake a week now, and he was asking after MInho every other second, like he required it every other time his heart needed to beat. The others had barely been allowed to but he was imobile and restricted to his bed unpermitted to just get up and wander over to another ward. To see Minho, they had to leave Hyunjin alone.   
Changbin folded his arms. 

“The nurse said you can seeing as you walked well under supervision this morning. BUT one of us has to come with you. And be sensible! You’ve got a giant wound and a broken arm! You’re not invincible.” 

“Rude.” 

“I can take you to see him tomorrow. If you BEHAVE.”

“Best behavior, I promise.” Hyunjin grinned, contagiously. It was the kind of grin that was incredibly hard to say no to, as it basically gave him an overwhelming resemblance to a particularly excitable labrador, and there had been a terrifying few days without it, and Changbin was so overjoyed to see it again that he doubted he was ever going to deny him anything ever again. Not that he’d tell him that, and give the little shit any leverage. 

They found themselves interrupted by the exceedingly loud arrival of Jeongin, stomping into the room and plunking himself angrily down into the seat. 

“Stupid Seungmin and his bloody fucking-” 

Uh oh. That sounded bad. 

It was so so easy to just forget the pocket of chaos their lives had been flooded with. He could just sit here and yell at Hyunjin for being a dumbass because that was very much less than out of the ordinary, he could pretend that the fact he had the trams heading down the hospital timetable memorised was completely normal and maybe he could just accept that one of his best friend sin the world could never even wake up, if he just boiled it down to something that simple. 

He wasn’t like Seungmin, preparing himself for the worst possible outcome or like Jeongin injecting himself with hope to drown all the terror out. He was more just sitting in the middle, looking plainly at the situation like it was and taking everything as it came. Constantly in a state of this is fine until reality kicked him in the stomach and told him it wasn’t simple like that. 

It didn’t take much to figure out what they had argued about. But this wasn’t just some school yard scrap or a petty fallout. Nobody was right, nobody was being intentionally hurtful or bullying someone. And yet it hurt so much more and the wounds were so much deeper. 

All he really wanted was normality. He didn’t want Jeongin like this, he didn’t want to feel the horrible realisation that he couldn’t go and check to see if Seungmin was okay without looking like he had taken some sort of side in an argument that didn’t have sides. 

If Minho just stopped daunting and procrastinating waking up, it would be alright again. It wasn’t exactly out his character to dance around and fuck with them, but he’d had enough he just wanted his friend back. They could achieve that stupid normality that he was searching so hard to find. No hospitals, no arguments about anything that didn’t involve food, no more dry taste of dread lingering upon his tongue. Anything was better than that. 

Hyunjin’s fingers curled around Minho’s hair. It silked through his hands like water like it always had before, but it didn’t smell right. He knew the shampoo he used, it was citrussy and would leave scents wherever he buried his head, he’d fall into bed and his face land on his pillow, and it would waft into his nose like he slept there every night. But now it was different, coconut, simple, clinical and nothing like what it should be. Someone else washing Minho’s hair just made Hyunjin uncomfortable. It was easier to say he was just sleeping without the reminders of his comatose state. He wanted it to smell like it should, on his own pillow in his own bloody bedroom. 

He could even feel his breath tickling his neck, slower and lighter than he’d ever heard before. It was tortuous feeling that breath, even seeing his eyelids flicker just inches away from his face and seeing all that should be there. He could reach out and touch his face, and it would be warm underneath his fingers. They ran through his hair, and delicately stroked his face, Hyunjin not caring about the ache in his back and shoulders as he did so. 

“Just open your eyes” He begged, inaudibly. “You absolute cunt face stop doing this to me. You sadistic fuck, making me wait isn’t fair. I hate waking up in the morning and asking for you only to be let down. I hate that Seungmin looks like he’s given up, I hate that Jeongin won’t even talk to him because of it, I hate that he had to go through the first days without me. Don’t you get it, don’t you understand how much this world sucks when you’re not there? It isn’t fair, Minho. It isn’t fair on me, or on Seungmin, or Changbin, or Jeongin or anyone that knows you.

I’m not leaving here without you. I don’t care about my own process, the second I wake up my first question is always about you!”

He nestled in just that little bit tighter, leaning their foreheads together, needing to feel his warmth to remind himself he was still alive in their, to feel his heartbeat thunder.

He spoke even quieter, wearier than ever of Changbin snoring in the chair beside them. 

“I think I’m starting to go insane.

I only ask them to make sure...because I already know. I hear it in my sleep, when they talk in that hushed way in the corridors… sometimes I catch other stuff...like a woman went into early labour last night, and some guy managed to shatter his index finger completely last week...but it’s always followed by or following whenever they talk about you, about your state. Yesterday when Jeongin came in crying I was confused cause I thought I was hearing Seungmin crying! And he was here! On the other side of the hospital from my ward. 

And I know, I know that I am barely making any noise above breathing right now but it just seems so much louder. I don’t understand what the hell is happening and I can’t even get you to hug me properly.

...I just miss you, okay? I miss you, I love you and I need you.

And we need to talk about the fact that we were so not attacked by a dingo.”


	5. 5- I am at war with myself

Silence had never scared Seungmin more in his life. And it wasn’t even silence. You could still hear nurses shuffling about in the ward next door, visitors asking at reception for room numbers  
And the beeping of the machines. And it wasn’t even the actual silence that scared him, it was the thought that the silence would never end. Staring at a motionless Hyunjin had been bad enough, but he was always going to wake up, every doctor had high hopes and the aura of the room didn’t seem quite so apologetic. But here, being in this room sometimes scared him enough that his heart would stop. Did his heart stop out of shock, of terror, or did it stop because he couldn’t imagine it beating in a world where Lee Minho wasn’t able to do so much as flip him off.   
Some days were better than others, sometimes his heart would be as filled with ignorant hope as Jeongin’s was, and he could sit there calmly, rant or enjoy what little company Minho was able to provide him with. Jeongin would always ramble, talk about all the things they were going to do when they woke up, Changbin seemed to be constantly joking, like he hoped he’d somehow wake up just to laugh. He didn’t know what Hyunjin said, he always said it in a whisper, words meant for him, and only him to maybe never hear. He’d climb into the bed with him and stroke his hair, knowing full well had he been awake he may have lost an arm. But Seungmin thought maybe he wouldn’t mind, as long as it was Hyunjin.   
But there were bad days. There were days when Jeongin was at school, or when Changbin was visiting Hyunjin during his meds, and he’d just sit there alone with what might as well have been a mannequin. But his hands were warm, he could feel his pulse ripple through his fingers as he squeezed them. He’d feel like opening his lungs to scream at him forever, asking him, the universe or whatever almighty being how they could tantalise him like this. How could they put him so close, so warm, so perfect that he could literally touch him and feel him, but leave him stationary, without so much of a flicker of an eyelid for what could be forever.   
That was the thing. He could tell himself that he was being the realist so that Jeongin or any of the others didn’t have to, but he knew the others were not so trivial, even Hyunjin’s smiles were becoming more limited by the day. He was not the strong one for being a pessimist. He was the weakest of them all. He used his own terror and nightmares and molded them to form this mask of reason and courage. As if he was fooling anyone, he couldn’t even fool himself.   
And so, he just sat there, his fingers laced through Minho’s own while he let his stupid pride just leak out through his eyes. What even was bravery in a situation like this? It wasn’t brave to be an asshole, that benefited nobody but himself and his overwhelming need to not be pathetic, but that could go fuck itself with cactus.  
He didn’t give a shit that he felt droplets settle upon the pillowcase, he didn’t care if anyone walked past and heard whispered sobs, he didn’t care if there was a stigma against eighteen year old boys shedding tears publically, his dignity be damned. He was crying because he hadn’t been, because he’d been the one in some naive bubble and now at least one layer was popped and all those tears just gave flooding out in a wave he thought might never end. He didn’t care that he felt another presence take the seat next to him, he didn’t care about their arms wrapped around his shoulders, and he didn’t care that he barely even knew him. He didn’t think he’d ever be so vulnerable, so in need of affection but then again he didn’t think Lee Minho was capable of shutting up, even when unconscious. 

“He’s going to wake up.” Chan said, his voice so calm and commanding it was almost believable when he said it like that. “I promise.” 

Jisung looked down at the can that had landed on his lap after colliding with his head.  
“I said I wanted juice.” He pointed out to his brother standing across from him, whose hands were clasped around his own can, which was distinctly lemonade.   
“Its kinnnda lemon juice…plus it looks like you need some sugar.” Brian shrugged, turning his back and heading into the house, leaving Jisung to his thoughts in the breeze.   
The four of them had been stepping back a little from their suspiciously dedicated daily hospital excursions. Jisung hadn’t been back since Hyunjin had woken up, after being awardly introduced. He had yet to even see Minho asleep. Felix still went pretty often, probably down to the fact that he actually interacted with everyone and was genuinely pleasant enough that things didn’t seem… fishy. Woojin and Chan went occasionally, but mainly to visit Hyunjin, there was something a little too personal about intruding when it came to the one that might not- yeah. Woojin also had apparently been unintentionally witness to a rather viscous fight between Jeongin and Seungmin that had resulted in him literally being the only barrier between Seungmin and crashing into the wall, so they were trying to tiptoe around a little carefully.  
That and Jisung reaaaallly didn’t want to go back.   
‘Gathering thoughts’ was the excuse that he had tried to use on the others, and they accepted despite the fact that Jisung knew they all saw through his paper thin lie.  
It’s just...Hwang Hyunjin was a real person now. A real person who had smiled at him. He wasn’t just lucky prey anymore.   
The smile could have made him gag. He thought him waking up would be some consolation to him, that he hadn’t really done anything to at least one of them, that he was okay and would be okay and he hadn’t stolen any more of his happiness than he feared. But he almost wished he would fall back asleep. Then it was less real. If he couldn’t even be in the same room as Hyunjin, how on earth could he deal with the guy whose life he’s ruined, one way or another.   
Chan had a scar, a scratch from his ankle all the way up to his knee. To this day, Jisung doesn’t know if it was him or Felix. Chan just refused to tell them, or really anything about it. All they knew was that one day, whilst being tied down for the night, Chan definitely didn’t have that scar, and in the morning his trousers were stained, and that was the last time Chan stayed with them through the night, and the last time they were ever locked up in the same room together, the two of them were both already choking on guilt they were terrified they’d hurt each other. They’d been what? Twelve?   
But Chan had never shown an inch of blame, for either of them, if anything he was more empathetic.  
He was so undeserving of Chan, and the thought of facing what he’d done to Minho, which just kept piling up onto his back was beginning to break his shoulder blades.   
So that’s what he was doing, sitting out on his garden bench, letting his lemonade warm up in the australian heat, he was thinking. Perhaps if he did it for long enough some solution would materialise in front of him, with the best outcome and the least amount of gripping misfortune to befall anybody. A miracle. He felt like a toddler, so scared of the outside world and eager for decisions to be made for him, because it just felt like everything he did would only be salt into wounds. There wasn’t guidance or a helpbook for things like this, if anything he had the knowledge, but he was rendered clueless and lost.   
What had Chan told him? You’re going to hold his hand and make sure he’s not alone.  
A distant as Jisung could sometimes force himself to be, alone was not ever felt something he felt not really. There would be the odd occasion, when he’d get sour and let that poison him, thinking he was the only suffering one, and then he’d remember Felix had gone through an identical set of horrors right beside him. And he was never alone, never in the dark by himself even now that he’d screwed up so royally, and he didn’t doubt it.   
The thought of ever going through what he had alone, was potentially the most repluslie thought he could barely bear to entertain. He was having a pretty hard time dealing with the situation as whole, he was positive he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he was so ruthless to leave someone innocent like that, regardless of connection or rather lack thereof. And that’s what they were now: connected. Connected to some random comatose patient he hadn’t even visited.   
There was his first step.   
“Felix?” He asked into his phone. “I think I want to go see him, but like, alone.” 

Apparently Jisung’s definition of ‘alone’ meant forcing Felix to come with him, and by ‘going to see him’ he meant sneaking in out of visiting hours.  
“I don’t want anyone else there!” Jisung had protested.  
“What about me?”  
“You’re like a dog who notices the someone at the door before the bell rings, you’re rather useful.”   
“Yeah but the hospital is about as busy as a place can get, even out of hours so how am i going to be of any use when there’s like 208 scents wandering around per floor.” He argued back, dryly and without purpose. He knew why he was here, and it wasn’t the practical reasoning that JIsung had bullshitted to him on the phone.   
Then again, couldn’t he just come when the others all had class or something? Was it entirely necessary to sneak through accident and emergency at ten a clock at night to a ward on the other side of the hospital ,when they could be very easily caught by a nurse at any point in time? Definitely not. But Felix knew all too well if Jisung didn’t act upon his impulses he would never get around to it, in fact he could already feel the anxiety dripping off of him, and there was no way Felix was going to let him turn around on this decision. One it was for the better good he guessed, and also he wasn't going to have had his ass dragged here without a satisfying resolution.  
It turned out to be a little difficult.   
The first attempt Jisung didn’t even get to the door frame before he turned straight on his heels, steadying himself against the wall.   
“Heyyyyyyy.” Felix whispered, attempting to sooth him, despite lacking any knowledge on the right thing to say in a situation like this. He usually felt fully equipped, because everything he had ever gone through before he always had Jisung to understand him , because it had happened to him to, and he thought he’d done his best to be the other way around, cause when you share things it’s a lot easier to ease the pain, then it’s halved. But now he was terrified that he didn’t get it, that he didn’t understand and the feeling was no longer shared, it was all pent up inside Jisung, and he was powerless to help. But he would try, he would try.   
“Do you need a minute?”   
Jisung needed several minutes. Several times. It took them 2 hours before Jisung and Felix finally stood firmly beside the sleeping boy.   
“I think I’m okay by myself.” Jisung whispered.   
Felix wasn’t so sure. Seeing how tenuous it was to even get here, he felt uneasy about just leaving Jisung by himself, in a situation like this. But his tone sounded sincere, the most sure Felix had heard through the whole ordeal, so he wasn;t going to argue with him, things from now on were his decision.  
“I’ll be right outside okay?” He reassured him, giving his hand a little final squeeze beh=fore he turned out of the door only to be greeted by a familiar, rather confused face.   
“HYUNJIN! HI!”


End file.
